Defending the territory of good behavior
EtiquetteDog.com
You're glowing
Interesting conversation with a security guard who commented on the way employees dressed. “I can always tell the people in power,” she said, “by their clothes. Even if they’re casual, they look put together.” As we stood and talked, she’d nod as executives and other workers leaving for the evening passed by, and she offered her standard goodnight.
“You see?” she said to me about a woman in a simple suit. “She looks like she has authority.” I took a mental note—that person was NOT one in authority, but an employee who frequented the president’s office to discuss company business.
“Some of these people—they look like they couldn’t be bothered to comb their hair. They look terrible. People used to dress up for work. They dressed for the position they were in. None of the folks from X company look like they care about their work. Or their lives.” She was right: numerous workers were streaming out the door, many of them looking as though they had been working in the yard or were about to help a friend pack to move to a new house.
You may think this is a good thing. It’s certainly very egalitarian when everyone looks as dressed down—or as slovenly—as the next person. But it also makes those who think about their attire stand out like glow lights. They look competent, professional, and ready for something, while others look ready for bed. Come to think of it, they're glowing too—with the wrong message.
You may not care about how you look, but do you really think no one notices? If the security guard notices, perhaps your boss does, too.
Everything Isn't Important
It can just be insanely difficult to keep up with a blog or a newsletter. For all the highly driven goal keepers out there who tell us to just do it, plan it and plan to execute, schedule it and get it done—there are three times as many of us who say, "Okay, I tried. I really did. I just could not muster up the energy at the end of a long day or set aside a time to nail these things down."
But these folks won't take that for an answer. Their assertions that we aren't motivated, we don't find these things important enough, we're not focused, we really don't want success—they just twist us into a cave of guilt and frustration that I, quite frankly, have dispensed with. I just don't buy it anymore.
I am what I am. I'm not driven in this way. I'm driven in some ways, but not in a way that makes true Choleric drivers satisfied with my performance. I have come to the realization that I am not going to be the success I was told I could be if I just applied myself as prescribed, and I'm okay with it. I'm going to enjoy doing what I can when I can and not beat myself up about.
I'm never going to set myself to tweeting six times a day or starting daily discussions on LinkedIn or checking Facebook every morning. Right now, I feel pretty good if I can check in every other day or so, and I can't read all the updates, but I try to flip through most of them. I cannot be so self-absorbed. Everything the success gurus say has merit, but I also know that everything isn't that important. If it's all a person wants, okay, but there are other things going on in my life—things that matter to me, yes, perhaps more than being a phenomenally successful entrepreneur. Everyone isn't cut out to be that. I'm not, or at least not right now.
Acknowledging this takes such a load off my shoulders. I'm free. I'm content, I'm enjoying life, I'm busy, I'm doing what I can do with the time I have to do it, and I'm taking naps every once in a while when I should probably be posting something on Google+, but what the heck. Go ahead and follow the gurus. I'll let God lead me and feel rested while doing it, thank you very much.
But these folks won't take that for an answer. Their assertions that we aren't motivated, we don't find these things important enough, we're not focused, we really don't want success—they just twist us into a cave of guilt and frustration that I, quite frankly, have dispensed with. I just don't buy it anymore.
I am what I am. I'm not driven in this way. I'm driven in some ways, but not in a way that makes true Choleric drivers satisfied with my performance. I have come to the realization that I am not going to be the success I was told I could be if I just applied myself as prescribed, and I'm okay with it. I'm going to enjoy doing what I can when I can and not beat myself up about.
I'm never going to set myself to tweeting six times a day or starting daily discussions on LinkedIn or checking Facebook every morning. Right now, I feel pretty good if I can check in every other day or so, and I can't read all the updates, but I try to flip through most of them. I cannot be so self-absorbed. Everything the success gurus say has merit, but I also know that everything isn't that important. If it's all a person wants, okay, but there are other things going on in my life—things that matter to me, yes, perhaps more than being a phenomenally successful entrepreneur. Everyone isn't cut out to be that. I'm not, or at least not right now.
Acknowledging this takes such a load off my shoulders. I'm free. I'm content, I'm enjoying life, I'm busy, I'm doing what I can do with the time I have to do it, and I'm taking naps every once in a while when I should probably be posting something on Google+, but what the heck. Go ahead and follow the gurus. I'll let God lead me and feel rested while doing it, thank you very much.
I'd Like to Thank the Academy
We hear so much about the need for confidence in order to succeed, and I won’t dispute it—when you feel good about what you’re doing, how much you know, and your level of assurance as to your ability and worth is strong, you stand a far better chance at moving forward than someone cowering in a cubicle, wondering if it’s safe to come out and say something.
But sometimes, there’s just no accessing that confidence we’re supposed to be able to muster up. We’ve had a bad day, or a tough month, or a really terrible year (or more) and the confidence chip is just worn out. That’s when you have to shine it on, as we used to say—pull together all your skills in pretending and just go for it. I say you have to give that Academy Award-winning performance. Act as though there’s a camera trained on you and Steven Spielberg has just called out, “ACTION!”
We all have the ability to pull it together in this way. We did it as children—we became princesses or Indian chiefs or whatever it was we were playing at the time. As I remember, I played teacher quite effectively, long before I knew how to read. I lined up all my stuffed animals in chairs and told them to open their books and read with me, and I spit out what I thought words on paper sounded like, which was some sort of gibberish-y soundings. I wasn’t a teacher. I didn’t even know the connection between written and spoken language, but by golly, I pretended like I was Teacher of the Year.
I haven’t lost that inner child, and neither have you. When you’re faced with something that throws you, pretend you know what to do. Ask yourself, “What would I do if I actually KNEW what to do?” Play it out as though you’re [insert favorite actor here] and play the part. Daniel Craig pretends he’s James Bond quite effectively, and for all we know he’s painfully shy and kind of dumb. Lucy Liu is playing a version of Watson in CBS’s updated Sherlock Holmes drama, but she’s not a surgeon—and she’s not a vicious fighter like she played in “Kill Bill,” either. Maybe she’s really the quiet type who has a lot of cats; we don’t know. I’ve met recognizable actors who play very commanding roles, such as judges, and sound tremendously smart on television, but in “real life” they are as ditzy and as clueless as the rest of us.
So put on your white gloves and throw up those jazz hands, people! “Fake it ‘til you make it,” the saying goes, but I just say pretend—and get ready to make that acceptance speech when they call out your name as best supporting actor in a dramatic role.
Observe the Patterns
We're all so wildly different. We don't see life coming to us in just the same ways. We don't process information identically. Some are more patient, some show greater humility, some are bitter and angry, some don't care about much at all.
But we still have to communicate, and we're going to be better at it when we take time to observe and respect the differences. Your dependable, low-key, friendly employee is quite different from your methodical, quiet, determined worker who puts things in order. Your talkative, funny, colorful coworker needs to be approached in an entirely different way than the get-with-the-program, don't-waste-my-time, on-a-mission executive.
I never cease to be amazed that sales professionals in particular, and those who must deal with many levels of an organization or with clients in general, will spend zillions of company dollars on courses on strategic planning, negotiating skills, project management, and more—all the things needed technically—but will not spend five minutes discovering how to best communicate with different personality styles. You may be brilliant in the details of your product and be able to answer any question put to you, but if your prospect doesn't like you, it won't matter. You may be a delightful storyteller with a knockout wardrobe and a winning smile, but if you waste the time of someone who wants nothing but the facts and a brief overview of what's in it for them, you'll never grab that person as a client.
It's not rocket science, really. It's just a matter of observing patterns. Figure out what your pattern looks like, find out what the others look like, and adjust accordingly. I like the system I teach because it's so simple, but there are a number of good ones.
It's the essence of respect to adjust your style. People don't forget it.
Roll with those punches
I read that Ann Curry has been demoted from her co-anchoring position on the "Today" show. I'm sure it's embarrassing and disappointing for her. It made me think about what one should do if one is demoted. How should you respond?
1. Go ahead and grieve. Get it out. Smash some plates, go for a run, have a good cry, be depressed for a weekend. Give the emotion the attention it's due.
2. Take a clear look at the situation. You weren't terminated or asked to resign. That means you're considered worth keeping. For whatever reason, it didn't work out with your being in that higher position. Maybe you can see how you blew it, or that the job really was over your head. There might be some relief involved here. On the other hand, you might feel betrayed, hoodwinked, or something that makes you quite angry. In any event, look at the thing with eyes wide open and decide to give it some time before you do anything extreme.
3. It's time for the Academy Award-winning performance. This doesn't mean pretending like nothing happened; it means you hold your head high and walk with purpose. You've already been in this job, so you know how to do it well. If you work with a great attitude, the gossip and whispering doesn't have anything to cling to and it will pass in a few weeks.
4. Make your decisions when things are less emotional. Once you're in the groove and things have stabilized, reassess. Time to look for something else? Or perhaps you'll see you're in a really good place, and you'll feel grateful you didn't jump ship when you were feeling hurt.
Ann Curry is in a position to have her attorney negotiate what will be an acceptable reassignment. You're in a position to decide you'll take your blows with grace and show people what a class act looks like. Roll with the punch you took and remember: it could have been so much worse.
1. Go ahead and grieve. Get it out. Smash some plates, go for a run, have a good cry, be depressed for a weekend. Give the emotion the attention it's due.
2. Take a clear look at the situation. You weren't terminated or asked to resign. That means you're considered worth keeping. For whatever reason, it didn't work out with your being in that higher position. Maybe you can see how you blew it, or that the job really was over your head. There might be some relief involved here. On the other hand, you might feel betrayed, hoodwinked, or something that makes you quite angry. In any event, look at the thing with eyes wide open and decide to give it some time before you do anything extreme.
3. It's time for the Academy Award-winning performance. This doesn't mean pretending like nothing happened; it means you hold your head high and walk with purpose. You've already been in this job, so you know how to do it well. If you work with a great attitude, the gossip and whispering doesn't have anything to cling to and it will pass in a few weeks.
4. Make your decisions when things are less emotional. Once you're in the groove and things have stabilized, reassess. Time to look for something else? Or perhaps you'll see you're in a really good place, and you'll feel grateful you didn't jump ship when you were feeling hurt.
Ann Curry is in a position to have her attorney negotiate what will be an acceptable reassignment. You're in a position to decide you'll take your blows with grace and show people what a class act looks like. Roll with the punch you took and remember: it could have been so much worse.
Number 1 or Number 2?
A current commercial for Quilted Northern toilet paper has an actor asserting, "It's time to get real about what happens in the bathroom."
The utter inanity of this statement just floors me every time I hear it. Why must we "get real" about what happens in the bathroom? Why is it time? And what in the world does this mean? Are we to alert social media about what we're doing in the bathroom, in the interests of being "real"? Am I being false if I do not tell you what's happening in the bathroom? Should I be tweeting my elimination schedule or how something I ate has me irregular?
Since this is a commercial for toilet paper, what could be meant? We need to be real about our use of toilet paper? About exactly how to use it? (Is there a rule?)
What am I supposed to be "real" about in regard to what happens in the bathroom? I don't want anyone to know what happens in there (which, as an aside, is why I absolutely detest that people use their cell phones in the bathroom—because it's uncomfortable enough that people in the bathroom can hear my bodily functions, but I don't want someone on the phone to hear my bodily functions). I don't want to be real about what happens in the bathroom, and I'll be disgusted if anyone feels I want to know and decides to tell me, unsolicited. Unless you and I are having a somewhat intimate discussion and we agree to disclose what we do in the bathroom, the bedroom, the closet, the basement, or in the privacy of our own minds, I'd like people to be mostly "unreal" about what happens in the bathroom by keeping it a secret.
Cultural Obesity
Medical professionals are now telling us that before too long, a majority of the population will be clinically obese. For various reasons, one of them being a food industry that assiduously studies the effects of taste combinations and additives that create addictive behavior, we're unable to control ourselves anymore. (My physician cousin tells me, "The way to lose weight is to eat what you want—but only when you're hungry." So easy for him to say. What if, like me, you're always hungry?)
This is just my observation, but there's something about the prevalence of obesity that indicates something going on inside the heart and mind of our culture. We have become inwardly focused, pulling the curtains around us and quietly stuffing ourselves with mindless drivel like "The Housewives of . . . " franchise, watching stupid, moral-less people fight and spit and hate one another. We are inundated with sexual messages and images, and people look at you like some quaint throwback if you think there's too much of it. We believe our opinion matters for everything, and we give it constantly, loudly, rudely, hatefully, sarcastically. We don't know how to be quiet or walk away, just as we don't won't stop putting food in our mouths because, by golly, there's still food on the plate!
I don't know exactly how to explain it. When we have nothing truly rich and lasting with which to fill our souls, we will fill it with stuff that makes our lives and relationships miserable. What's frustrating and fascinating at the same time is that physical obesity is such a stronghold that even those who have deep and satisfying foundations find themselves unable to address and or/overcome it. I consider myself blessed beyond measure and have committed my life to timeless principles and a relationship with God, but it took me 40 years to get a handle on my weight. There's nothing special about me. My values aren't bigger and better than a whole host of others. Still, controlling my weight is like trying to move a mountain.
What makes this culture different? What is it about us that brings us to such an open exhibition of our lack of control?
My 211-lb Life
So I'm watching reruns of TLC's fascinating series, "My 600-lb Life." It is riveting and so inspiring to me. It reminds me of how great I feel that I am down about 70 pounds down from my all-time high of 211 in 2007. When I first hit my goal weight of 135, I wanted to see how far down I could go, just because for the first time in my life I felt in control and able to go for it. I got down to 126 for a week or so. That was 85 pounds. A weight loss of 85 pounds—in my entire life, I never dared dream I could really do it.
Since then, it's been an up-and-down maintenance roller coaster, holding on to not gaining more than 15 pounds from my firm goal of 135. Three years since hitting that goal, I am about 8 pounds away from it, and I'm finding things a bit easier to manage (at last!), and I think it's because I have completely eliminated sugar.
I had to do this when I was horribly sick from a virus that attacked my liver in January and February. I was constantly nauseated and so terribly ill some days, I wondered if I'd have to go to the hospital. After being reminded that "sugar feeds a virus" by a friend who's had to deal with her son's viral infections, I just stayed away from it. And I'm on the verge of astonishment that it seems to be making a tremendous difference for me. I don't miss it. I avoid high-carbohydrate stuff, too, since carbs turn to sugar in the body (although I do indulge in air-popped popcorn in the evening). I'm finding I don't have to be so draconian with my portions and restrictions. I'm rather delighted that the advice of Dr. James Surrell in his book, SOS (Stop only Sugar) Diet, has proven to be true: it's sugar that is the major source of all the weight problems.
But back to "My 600-lb Life": I am inspired by these people whose lives have gotten so out of control that their lives are consumed by what they consume. I was never that big, of course, but the feelings about being fat are the same. I felt alone, unable to stop eating, utterly self-loathing, thoroughly discouraged, always saying, "I give up." I know the frustrations of trying to maintain, of avoiding what I simply cannot—must not—eat, of feeling the unfairness that my body is so different from everyone else's but also aware I'm the one who messed it up. Every sensor is broken, and Dr. Barbara Berkeley, on her blog and in her book of the same name, "Refuse to Regain," has explained how we who have been significantly overweight most of our lives have ruined the normal processes of our bodies. We really are different. We can eat the same things as a person of normal weight, and the normal person will not gain weight and we will gain 5 pounds. What all the weight loss and maintenance websites say are the calories I can consume daily to maintain my weight are way too much for me. I'll gain weight if I consume that many calories.
There is an experience that those who have lost hundreds of pounds share to which I certainly cannot relate, but I do know what it feels like to be way overweight—clinically obese—and feel a complete misfit, unattractive, depressed, and without hope. Watching these brave people do whatever it takes to get their bodies under control is a reminder to me of how much I want to stay here.
Since then, it's been an up-and-down maintenance roller coaster, holding on to not gaining more than 15 pounds from my firm goal of 135. Three years since hitting that goal, I am about 8 pounds away from it, and I'm finding things a bit easier to manage (at last!), and I think it's because I have completely eliminated sugar.
I had to do this when I was horribly sick from a virus that attacked my liver in January and February. I was constantly nauseated and so terribly ill some days, I wondered if I'd have to go to the hospital. After being reminded that "sugar feeds a virus" by a friend who's had to deal with her son's viral infections, I just stayed away from it. And I'm on the verge of astonishment that it seems to be making a tremendous difference for me. I don't miss it. I avoid high-carbohydrate stuff, too, since carbs turn to sugar in the body (although I do indulge in air-popped popcorn in the evening). I'm finding I don't have to be so draconian with my portions and restrictions. I'm rather delighted that the advice of Dr. James Surrell in his book, SOS (Stop only Sugar) Diet, has proven to be true: it's sugar that is the major source of all the weight problems.
But back to "My 600-lb Life": I am inspired by these people whose lives have gotten so out of control that their lives are consumed by what they consume. I was never that big, of course, but the feelings about being fat are the same. I felt alone, unable to stop eating, utterly self-loathing, thoroughly discouraged, always saying, "I give up." I know the frustrations of trying to maintain, of avoiding what I simply cannot—must not—eat, of feeling the unfairness that my body is so different from everyone else's but also aware I'm the one who messed it up. Every sensor is broken, and Dr. Barbara Berkeley, on her blog and in her book of the same name, "Refuse to Regain," has explained how we who have been significantly overweight most of our lives have ruined the normal processes of our bodies. We really are different. We can eat the same things as a person of normal weight, and the normal person will not gain weight and we will gain 5 pounds. What all the weight loss and maintenance websites say are the calories I can consume daily to maintain my weight are way too much for me. I'll gain weight if I consume that many calories.
There is an experience that those who have lost hundreds of pounds share to which I certainly cannot relate, but I do know what it feels like to be way overweight—clinically obese—and feel a complete misfit, unattractive, depressed, and without hope. Watching these brave people do whatever it takes to get their bodies under control is a reminder to me of how much I want to stay here.
Snorting Draincleaner
I guess everyone has seen the reports on television of the latest getting-high craze amongst the young: ingesting hand sanitizer, distilling it for the alcohol with instructions found on YouTube, or simply pumping it into the mouth and swallowing. Emergency rooms are seeing increased numbers of the young and incredibly stupid showing up with hand sanitizer (which is about 70% ethyl alcohol) in their systems. Some are dying from alcohol poisoning.Why? Why is this generation so desperate to be impaired? I'm referring to the generation of time of the past 40 or 50 years. Everything from glue to paint to insane chemical combinations are being injected and inhaled. In this day, when it is so obvious that things like this can kill or permanently brain damage, what is the appeal? What is the draw to see if rat poison in the right amount could send one to nirvana? Since the introduction of recreational drugs by my own foolish, arrogant Baby Boom generation that threw off restraint and thought "turn on/tune in/drop out" was a good idea, the resulting generational cohorts have delved further and further into altering mental states. For what?
Is life fully lived, fully experienced without filters, such a horrible prospect? When I was in high school, I wanted to experience everything "to the max," as we used to say, and I even crazily refused to put ketchup on my McDonald's french fries because I wanted to taste the complete, delicious flavor of the potato. What is the desperate spiritual state of young people today who are so lost, so incomprehensibly dull, that they will open up the cabinet beneath the sink and wonder to themselves if snorting draincleaner might be a good high? They have nothing with which to fill the void.
Don't tell me this is the way kids are and this is how it's always been. It is not. It is not. Do not dismiss this as youthful indiscretion. This is serious tragedy. Do they hate themselves? Do they hate life? Why are they fighting to die? This is serious spiritual desolation.
We Have a Responsibility
We hear it again and again from the spokespersons for companies caught doing unscrupulous-but-not-technically-illegal things, or that have been found to be supporting some nefarious activity. When put on the spot for an explanation, or attempting to weasel out of righting a wrong, the PR guy will say, "We have a responsibility to our shareholders."
What is that responsibility? To keep making shareholders money no matter how they go about doing it? Certainly some shareholders will not care how money is made, but many others would object to sweatshop labor, deceit, funds diverted to brutal dictators, moral depravity, and characterless behavior.
Why isn't there a responsibility to do what is right? A responsibility to avoid evil and wrongdoing? Why is there only a responsibility to make money? Is there a responsibility to make money no matter how it's done? Is there a responsibility to make money by selling weapons to terrorists, or by hooking up with Communist governments? Is there a responsibility to make money by polluting rivers or selling children into slavery? Where does it end?
Where is the responsibility to goodness and truth? Is there only a responsibility to money?
It's all slippery, lying, weaseling spin. I have a responsibility to say so.
What is that responsibility? To keep making shareholders money no matter how they go about doing it? Certainly some shareholders will not care how money is made, but many others would object to sweatshop labor, deceit, funds diverted to brutal dictators, moral depravity, and characterless behavior.
Why isn't there a responsibility to do what is right? A responsibility to avoid evil and wrongdoing? Why is there only a responsibility to make money? Is there a responsibility to make money no matter how it's done? Is there a responsibility to make money by selling weapons to terrorists, or by hooking up with Communist governments? Is there a responsibility to make money by polluting rivers or selling children into slavery? Where does it end?
Where is the responsibility to goodness and truth? Is there only a responsibility to money?
It's all slippery, lying, weaseling spin. I have a responsibility to say so.
Sue Thompson
I develop people and organizations from the inside out! I'm an author, a speaker, a coach, and a consultant. See my website at www.BeExceptional.biz. Sign up for my unique newsletter!
